Enchanted
by lindsART
Summary: Post HBP w spoilers. Morli & Cami are not your everyday witches. nay. Each have secrets, dark secrets. They also have the undying trust of NL & HP. That is until they are sent to Azkaban for espionage & attempted murder. Ella Enchanted fate.
1. The Bottom Line

-1**Disclaimer: Don't recognize something? Guess what! It's mine! Mine! MINE I TELL YOU! Everything else belongs to JK Rowling, and more power to her.**

**Author's Note: This chapter jumps around a lot I had to give each main character a turn but I will not play hot potato with the point of views in chapters to come, I promise you that.**

_**Chapter 1**_

"**The Bottom Line"**

_Sixteen years after the-boy-who-lived was victorious…_

Said boy was pacing his room, his jet black hair messier than ever and his green eyes clouded in fierce concentration. Back and forth, weave in and out, again and again. It was quite clear our dynamic Harry Potter was agitated, to say the least. An opened and battered looking copy of the Daily Prophet lay upon his bed where he had hastily thrown it down. The cover headline read in bold caps **"MINISTRY AUROR MIA: DEATHEATER ACTIVITY SUSPECTED"**.

Nymphadora Tonks was missing.

**----Same day, same country.----**

Neville Longbottom did not consider himself outstanding in the very least of quantities, nor did anyone else. He grimaced in the mocking mirror at his rarely acceptable appearance. Visible ankles were evidence that he had grown many inches in height over the summer and his ramrod strait hair begged for.. something. _Anything, _He thought. Rapidly, he changed his mind when a recent memory came to mind. The Weasley twins had played another mostly wicked but partly good-natured prank on him the following year that had turned his hair into a huge curly rainbow.. Somehow the hairstyle was popular in the muggle world. _Something to do with clocks? Erm.. Closets? _Shrugging, Neville decided maybe he did like the color and texture of his hair just fine and he left it at that.

Neville hastily pulled on a jumper and ran down the stairs to find Gram reading the Daily Prophet at the small kitchen table. Neville grabbed a bowl and some milk for his favorite cereal, Coco Pops. They were very much like a chocolate cereal version of the muggle's Pop Rocks, though Neville would not be aware of this. While his tongue was literally dancing, Neville closed his eyes and tried to enjoy the morning.

Without lowering her paper, Gram addressed Neville very formally. "Go upstairs after breakfast and change into something more presentable. We are going to visit your mum and dad this afternoon." "Yes'm." "And please try to do something with that hair of yours." Nodding into his cereal, Neville contemplated the impossibility of her request. After he had consumed the last of the Coco Pops, Neville jumped the stairs two at a time, and came to a sliding stop at the doorway to his room. With a soulful sigh, he gently opened the door that had once been his fathers.

**----The same day, halfway around the world..----**

"You insolent little wretch!" Father's fist connected with my jaw with a sickening CRACK! and in spite of my best efforts to hold myself up, I fell to the floor. No tears came. Instead of giving into the burning in my eyes, I forced myself to glare at Father with all of the hatred I had built up after all these years. I refuse to let my spirit be broken! One thing was as sure as the dawn every morning…

I hate my Father.

And so, my spirit was bleeding to death with hate, but it was still intact. After five years of living with an alcoholic, abusive father, I still refused to roll over and play dead. My name is Morli Cooke and I am not your average teenage witch. I am not your average anything. I may only be seventeen but I know deep within I have lived a hundred years.

"One more thing," my Father sneered at me, where I lay seething on the ground with as much dignity as I could manage, "No more home schooling for you." "I'm to go to Salem?" "No. Hogwarts." Father turned on his heel and left the room, slamming the door. Gingerly, I sat up with an uneasy feeling spreading down my spine. Harry Potter goes to Hogwarts. Biting my lip, I pushed my long Auburn braid back over my shoulder and grabbed the counter. I wonder what Father is up to now.

**----Same day, late afternoon, Italy.----**

"Papa, may I ask you an impertinent question?" They paused their intense non-vocal shield training and he looked at her for a moment with a gentle smile. "When have you ever asked permission?" "Papa!" Cami giggled in spite of herself, and asked the questioned that had been burning in her mind for some time now. "How come you never told Tomas and I that we have an uncle?" Papa visibly froze and the joyful air evaporated, replaced at once by fear. "…Papa?" "Who… who told you Camilla?"

Cami inwardly shook at the fierce look upon her Papa's face and his stern tone as he said her given name. He saved 'Camilla' for when he was most disappointed in her but yet… What is wrong with writing family? Years of training was all that could keep her standing tall (figure of speech only, as she was an even 5') and resolute under his accusing and slightly dangerous gaze. Awkwardly, she answered, "Uncle Monte wrote to me two fortnights ago, we have been corresponding ever since. Papa, I… Did I do something wrong?"

And so innocently does betrayal spark and their story truly begins.


	2. Repercussions

-1**Disclaimer: Alas, I own nothing that belongs to JK Rowling so don't sue me. Enough said.**

**Author's Note:**** Sorry for the shortness, but it's a must.**

_**Chapter 2**_

"**Repercussions"**

Cami stepped backwards at the panic she saw upon her Papa's face. "Cami, Cami, listen to me. I have a brother yes, but he is a traitor, he is a traitor to the way! He is a diavolo! I… Merlin, he knows where we live. We must get Tomas and leave now."

The pair of them apparated back to the cottage at once, only to be horrorstruck by what they saw. They were too late. The dark mark lit up the sunset sky like a horrible imitation of a beacon. Forgetting herself, Cami raced forward yelling for Tomas. "Cami, no!" Papa reached out for Cami, but she had always been exceptionally fast and she had a head start. Cami threw open the door and looked wildly around for her baby brother. "Tomas! Where are you? Tomas!" For a horrible moment, Cami was almost physically knocked over by the sight of their great aunt Francesca slumped lifelessly in her lounge chair, a spilt cup of tea running ominously down her leg. Shaking herself to get a grip on the situation, Cami turned towards the rec room and slid to her knees.

Aunt Francesca had always good-naturedly coined this the 'wreck' room, but Cami did not think she had ever seen it this chaotic. Cami vaguely heard a resounding crash behind her but did not turn around. Crawling, she reached the lifeless form of her three year old brother and bent over him, vainly searching for a pulse. "Tomas, oh Tomas… no, no, no…" Papa's hollow voice eventually reached her, "Cami there is no use. He's gone. He's gone. Come, we must go at once." "We cannot leave him here!" "We mu-ust." Cami looked up, startled and more devastated than ever. She had never in all her fifteen years heard her Papa cry. It was this more than anything that brought her out of her grief enough to think as she was trained to. "They are still here?" "I believe so. Grab my arm." "I can--" "I do not wish you to know where we are going." Standing in a defeated sort of way, Cami grabbed her papa's arm and awaited the familiar sickening lurch of apparition. 

That was the last time Cami ever saw her brother..

**----------------------------------------------------------------**

**References **

**Diavolo Devil in Italian. Cami has a rather interesting lineage. More shall be revealed in future chapters so keep an eye out.**

**Camilla pronounced "Ca-me-ya"**

**BELLOCCHIO **

**Means "beautiful eyes" in Italian. Cami's eyes are usually a bright sapphire blue, but when she is angry - they turn violet. I know, I know - but truly, no pun intended.**


	3. Festivities & Fatalities

-1**_Chapter Three_**

"**Festivities & Fatalities"**

Ginny said a mild swear word under her breath and Ron looked up in agitated surprise. "Ginny!" "Oh, come off it. Phlegm is driving me mad! _'Oh, Muzzer, zat iz not eeenuv lace! More here, More there, More, More, More!'_" Hermione bit down a giggle as Ginny mimed leaping and trailing imaginary lace everywhere, which sadly was an alarmingly accurate imitation of Fluer's pre-wedding hysterics. Honestly, the Burrow now resembled something sickenly akin to Madam Puddifoot's. It was enough to turn anyone green. Hermione privately vowed that pink and lace would be blessedly absent from her wedding. That is, if she ever gets married. Hermione looked doubtfully at Ron who was, dare she think it, looking quite dashing in his new dress robes (which were mercifully black rather that pink. Mrs. Weasley had drawn the line at the men's robes).

Hermione turned her attention back to Ginny who was now standing quietly in her golden gown, her eyes focused in the near distance. Hermione had a shrewd idea as to why her friend now appeared mute; no small feat for the youngest Weasley to be sure. There. Harry was weaving through the crowd and heading in their direction. "Hiya Harry," Ron called out enthusiastically. "Where've you been?" "Talking with Moody. He seemed mighty keen to give some, er… advice." "Oh. Ya know, Mum was furious when she heard what we're up to. Mind you, she still is. Heard her an' dad having a row about it this morning, again… Are these robes too short?" Ron looked down and walked in a circle with an absurdly critical look on his face. Harry and Hermione exchanged anxious looks and Ginny grew increasingly impatient with Ron's blissful ignorance of why Mrs. Weasley was so upset, so she smacked him smartly on the head and replied matter of factly (while Ron stood mid-circling stride with a look of utmost surprise on his face), "She's worried to death about you three, you little twit. Of course she is upset." She then proceeded to gracefully walk away, mumbling unpleasant thoughts about men.

Soon enough, it was time for the wedding to begin. The trio took seats in the second row as the processions began to start. Hermione studied Harry's face as Ginny walked down the isle in her golden gown as maid of honor. It was quite obvious how he felt about her, but Ron was oblivious as always. As Harry stared at his little sister with something resembling restrained love in his eyes, Ron sat there with his arms draped over her seat and the empty seat next to him whistling along with the music, seemingly carefree. Hermione contemplated elbowing him in the ribs, and with a small smile she did just that.

Ron grunted loudly and looked at her incredulously, rubbing his now aching ribs. "What was _that _for?" Hermione folded her hands in her lap serenely and answered without looking at him, "For being an insensitive git." She nodded knowingly in Harry's direction. Ron looked at Harry for a dawning second and then folded his arms across his chest with a moody expression on his face.

The wedding march began and they stood up while Fleur walked towards Bill, tears already leaving trails down her perfect face. All in all, it was quite a disgustingly romantic ceremony.

As the final vows were spoken before the congregated wizards, witches, and veela alike the trio shared a secret look of suppressed relief. As three, they congratulated Bill and Fleur and continued inside the Burrow, eager to be at the beginning of the line for cake and punch. Harry appeared surprised by the 2 ft. tall waving Bill and Fleur look-a-likes topping the 10 story cake, but everyone else seemed to think it quite run-of-the-mill. Happily filling their plates, they settled on a sofa across from a window on the south end of the house. As Ron and Hermione dug in, Harry looked thoughtfully out the window. Suddenly he sat up straighter as he saw a golden-clad figure cross the grounds into the forest behind the Burrow. With a brow creased, Harry uneasily forked a piece of cake and ate it slowly. The tension between him and Ginny was higher than he liked, and he had half a mind to follow her…

But with a heaving sigh he remained seated.

_**------------------------------------------------------------**_

Ginny wandered away from the crowd of well wishers congratulating the newly married couple with a slight frown on her face. After walking for some time the merriment faded away and all she heard was the gentle sounds of the forest. This is what she needed so unceremoniously she sat down upon a sturdy log. She desperately needed a few minutes to clear her head.

Placing her elbows on her knees, she cradled her head and sighed audibly. Seeing Harry and being around him again was much harder than she thought it would be.

Even at the time of their mutual breakup, Ginny knew that it was the right and logical thing to do but still her heart rebelled. If only it didn't have to hurt so much. Ginny had assumed that she could go back to how it was before; she'd love Harry from a distance and be content with his friendship. But no, after she had a taste of what a real relationship with him could be like… She wanted more. Not just more she realized, she wanted forever.

A twig snapped behind her and Ginny's breath caught as the sound startled her out of her reveries. She turned her head and a scream escaped her throat. A long howl joined hers and Ginny jumped up and backed away, facing the beast. Her shoe caught on a grounded root and wildly flinging her arms, she fell backwards. As she hit the ground, only one word entered her adrenaline enhanced mind. _Wand_. Grasping her wand, she aimed her much practiced bat-bogey hex at the werewolf standing menacingly before her. As the hex hit her target, Ginny crawled backwards until she met a tree, and proceeded to use the tree to help her stand. Though her knees were knocking, Ginny turned and sprinted as fast as she could.

Growling and whimpering, the werewolf followed her. Unfortunately for Ginny, the werewolf was still exceptionally fast. All she had really succeeded in doing was rising its temper. The werewolf blocked her path and glared at her, preparing to attack.

Ginny drew in enough air for a powerful and earsplitting scream for help but before she could let it out, the werewolf pounced.

_**------------------------------------------------------------**_

Mrs. Weasley smiled at Bill's departing remark. Her silent laughter caught in her throat as her eye settled on the clock to check Bill & Fluer's journey. The spoon for her only daughter drew her attention and caused her to go faint. Ginny's hand was pointed at "deceased".

Pandemonium ensued.

Hermione screamed when she saw Mrs. Weasley faint and a crowd gathered around her, while Mr. Weasley nervously tried to rouse her. Weakly, she opened her shock filled eyes and to everyone's alarm, sobs racked her body. The only word she could manage was "Ginny." Cold crept up Harry's body as he remembered seeing Ginny enter the forest. He turned to go find her, but Hermione grabbed the front of his and Ron's robes with an unreadable look on her face. Harry and Ron turned to look at what she saw and at that moment the world crashed around the-boy-who-lived shoulders. His Ginny was dead.

An inhumane growl tore out of his throat as he jerked away from Hermione and ran towards the door. He had it open and was about to escape when strong arms grabbed him around the shoulders and pulled him back. "No!" "Everyone must stay inside until we find out what…" Slowly Harry realized that the arms holding him back were Shackleboot's. Harry struggled and curses flew out of his mouth as images of a lifeless Ginny tormented his mind. "No! I… I'm coming! I'll kill whoever… No…" Horrorstruck, Harry realized he was crying. He touched his wet face and the fight within him died. The light within him died.


End file.
